Heat Wave
by Lediona
Summary: Strange things happen in the heat of a New York summer. Flack helps Danny move into his new apartment and Danny lends a helping hand.


Danny Messer and I have developed a close relationship after working together for eight years. We're drinking buddies after a tough shift in the field, we're basketball teammates on the weekends, and we're good friends when life hits a rough patch. He's someone I can trust and who I know will have my back. He also keeps me in line, calls me out on my bullshit, and laughs at my stupid jokes. It's good to have people in your life like Danny. I tend to be ridiculously thankful that I can count him among my friends and honestly, I probably wouldn't have made it through the last few years without him. He can be unpredictable, over-confident and annoying, but he's always there when it really matters.

Today, however, I hate him. Why the hell did he have to pick the hottest day of the summer to move into his new building? A building that doesn't have an elevator or air conditioning. Seriously, I'm hot and sweaty, my back is starting to ache, and each trip up those goddamn stairs is making me a little crankier. I thought I was going to punch a hole through his newly painted wall or maybe take a swing at Danny himself after lugging the sofa up the stairs. It nearly got stuck while we were turning the corner and I was ready to leave it there, blocking the stairwell, and walk away from this entire process. But after a lot of shoving and grunting and maneuvering, we managed to get the thing up into the apartment. Danny's lucky that I owe him a favor or he'd be on his own.

I leaned my forehead against a window in the living room, enjoying the cool touch of the glass against my skin. It lasted for about ten seconds before it warmed up and my sweat started dripping down the glass. I felt disgusting, and fuck if I wanted to walk back down to the moving truck to collect another box of Danny's crap.

Danny set a box down behind me and I turned to look at him, wishing I could pull a Medusa so this whole thing would be over with. He ignored my death stare and grunted, 'Come on.' We were past the point of having any kind of decent conversation. It was far too hot and we were both far too irritated for that. It probably didn't help that we had had an argument about his window air conditioning unit earlier. I thought it was crazy that it was one of the first things he put in the moving truck – when it's hot like this, why wouldn't it be the last thing you pack so it can be the first thing you unpack? I may have asked why he was so stupid and where he had learned to pack. He may have told me to shut my mouth and to pick up a fucking box. We haven't said much to each other since then.

Footsteps echoing throughout the half-empty apartment, I dragged myself to the door and back down to the moving truck. Danny was shifting boxes around when I arrived. I could hear him muttering, but I chose to ignore him and picked up the box closest to me. It wasn't labeled and it weighed a ton, probably full of books. I had already established that Danny didn't know how to pack so it shouldn't surprise me that he would put all his heavy things in one box instead of distributing the weight evenly among boxes. In that stupid scientific brain of his it probably made more sense to categorize – books go in one box, kitchen stuff in another, and bedding in another. I shook my head and hefted the box into my arms.

Danny was still shifting stuff in the truck as I started back towards the building. 'What are you doing, Messer, searching for the lightest one? Don't worry, I'll take care of all the heavy lifting. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.' I spat over my shoulder. He didn't respond. I had reached the front steps of the building when I heard his voice behind me, 'Found it!' Desperate as I was to get rid of this heavy box, I didn't wait around to see what he'd found.

Danny's new building was an old brownstone on a quiet, tree-lined street in Brooklyn. A short flight of stairs led up into a small but clean entryway. There were two apartments on each floor and Danny's just happened to be at the very top. I climbed the stairs slowly, my arms and legs starting to burn from the weight of the box. The front door of 4B had been propped open and I squeezed through it, setting the box down against the far wall of the living room. My biceps were aching and I took a minute to massage the tight spots in my muscles.

While I was zoning out and easing the ache in my arms, Danny stumbled into the apartment carrying the air conditioning unit. 'See, jackass, I found it. Think you could quit your complaining now?'

'Thank you, Jesus,' I said, eyeing the machine with relief. I could already feel the cool drafts of air against my skin.

'I think that should be "thank you, Danny."'

I snorted. 'What, you get a prize for digging the AC out of the truck after we've hauled up half your crap? If you'd-a been smart about your packing, we'd be standing in a cool apartment right now instead of sweating our asses off!'

He knew I was right and he hated it. I could see that Messer stubbornness settling in as he clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at me. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for whatever argument he was going to use to contradict me. We stared at each other for a couple seconds until he finally said, 'Just help me put it in the window.' He shuffled awkwardly towards the opposite wall and set the air conditioner on the floor beneath one of the windows.

'You got a screwdriver?'

Danny nodded towards the kitchen door. 'Tool box is on the counter.'

I went through to the kitchen. Before grabbing the screwdriver from the box, I turned on the cold water tap and stuck my head under the stream of water. I stood there for awhile, cold water running over the back of my head and down over my face. It felt amazingly refreshing and it took all my willpower to pull my head up and turn off the faucet. Sighing, I shook the excess water out of my hair, droplets landed on my t-shirt, which was so soaked with sweat that a few droplets of water made no real difference.

By the time I returned to the living room Danny had the AC unit balanced in the window frame and was trying to pull the window down on top of it from a very awkward position. I moved across the room and pulled down on the sash window until it met the unit, holding it in place.

Danny looked up at me like he was about to say thank you, but then changed his mind when he saw that I was dripping. 'Took you long enough. What'd you do, take a shower?'

'Yeah, I went for a luxurious swim in your kitchen sink,' I said, squatting down to start screwing in the screens to block the rest of the window. 'How 'bout plugging the damn thing in instead of just standing there watching me?'

Danny grunted, as was his usual response today, and grabbed the plug off the floor and jammed it into the socket. The air conditioner whirred to life and a breeze hit my face. 'Thank you, Jesus,' I murmured again, a smile playing across my lips. Closing my eyes, I sat back on my heels and enjoyed the byproduct of this amazing piece of technology. Even though it wasn't yet cold, the moving air felt wonderful.

'Come on, let's close the windows and go grab another load of boxes,' Danny said. I watched him begin moving around the apartment to close the windows. Remaining where I was in front of the air conditioner for a few seconds longer, I finally heaved myself to standing and followed suit.

'You're such a slave driver,' I commented as we made our way back down the stairs after shutting all the windows.

'Who knew you'd be so lazy?' Danny retorted. 'Too bad I don't have a whip 'cause maybe then you'd work a little harder and faster.'

'Me? I'm being lazy? Why is it that those in power are always so hypocritical? You gonna make me call you "Master" too?'

'As long as you know who's in charge, Danny's just fine,' he said with a grin, jumping into the back of the truck.

After another hour and a half of schlepping furniture and boxes up three flights of stairs, we were finally done. If I had thought I was hot, sweaty and tired before, it was nothing compared to how I felt now. All of my muscles screamed with each movement I made and even with the relief from the air conditioner, I was still dripping in sweat. I was feeling a little lightheaded, too, probably from dehydration. Did I mention that I hate Danny Messer? Groaning, I eased myself onto the floor in front of the air conditioner, spreading my arms and legs out across the floor so I could avoid contact with any part my sweaty body.

'Why couldn't you've moved in October? At least it's cool in October,' I sighed, my eyes closing as I relaxed on the floor.

'Because my lease ran out in July, Flack. Nothing I could do.' I heard him settle on the floor next to me.

'Working in this heat must go against some labor law. Maybe I can arrest you for forcing me to work in hazardous conditions. I could have heatstroke or third-degree sunburns or something.'

Danny chuckled. 'Yeah, bring me down to the station and see how that goes. Your buddies will just laugh at you for being a total wuss.'

I muttered something completely incoherent in response and then drifted slowly into that foggy place between asleep and awake. The sound of the air conditioner resonated in my head, blocking any thought processes that might have taken place. I lay on the floor for god knows how long – it could have been five minutes or five hours. Either way everything just blended together into a blissful nothingness while I recovered from the strain from the last few hours' work.

Finally, I felt myself coming back together, becoming lucid once again. My brain slowly made sense of my surroundings and I recognized the sounds of the air conditioner, cars on the street below and Danny breathing heavily beside me. I turned my head and pried open my eyes to look at him. From the way his hands were sprawled palm up and his mouth was hanging open, I figured he was asleep. He looked oddly peaceful, like the wood floor was as comfortable as any plush mattress. I was kind of jealous that he had passed out, wishing I could have stayed in my fog for a little while longer.

But I was starting to get uncomfortable and I was totally parched. As I sat up the room tilted slightly and I quickly put my hands out to steady myself. 'Whoa. Not too fast, Flack,' I muttered. I got my feet under me and pushed myself to standing, using the wall for support. Then, shuffling like an old man, I made my way to the kitchen to get something to drink.

Without thinking I opened one of the cabinets above the sink and was baffled when I found it empty. It took me a second to remember that we'd just moved Danny in and that we hadn't gotten around to actually unpacking anything yet. With a sigh, I turned on the faucet and stuck my head down, lapping at the water. I was completely uncoordinated and sluggish, but eventually I managed to get some water down my throat. It was so delicious. I felt like I could drink a bathtub full of water and still not be satisfied. Awkwardly bent over the sink and with most of the water running over my face, I kept drinking.

'What the fuck are you doing?'

I jumped and turned to look at the doorway. Danny was standing there with his hair standing out in all directions, giving me a funny look.

I shrugged. 'I was thirsty.'

'Here, this might be more enjoyable than drowning yourself in my sink. . .again,' he said, moving to the refrigerator. 'These are the first things I moved into the new place.' He opened the door and inside were two six-packs of Sam Adams Summer Ale. I nearly started drooling at the sight of them. He grinned at me and pulled his keys out of his pocket to pop the caps off two bottles and passed one to me. We clinked bottles and I lifted mine in his direction before putting it to my lips. The beer far surpassed the water.

We stood in silence and finished off our first beers quickly, the cool liquid just tasting too good to be savored. After he set his empty on the counter, Danny opened the refrigerator again, grabbed the four remaining beers and gestured for me to follow him back into the living room. He slid down the wall by the air conditioner and popped open another round, holding mine out to me as I joined him on the floor.

'Couldn't we sit on the couch?' I asked, taking a sip of my beer.

Danny shook his head with a look of disgust. 'Hell no, I don't want your sweaty ass on my nice leather couch.'

Fair enough. We lapsed into silence again, just enjoying the cool beer, the cold air and the company. After the annoyed silences we'd had earlier in the day, I was mildly proud of us for coming back to a place where we didn't want to tear each other's heads off. It was a sign of a good friendship, I guess. And it was good to know that our problems could be solved with a six-pack and a little air conditioning.

We were halfway done with our third beers when Danny spoke again, 'Hungry?'

As if in response to that word, my stomach rumbled loudly. 'I think it's safe to say that was a yes. Food would be awesome.'

'Pizza okay?'

I nodded, beer bottle still pressed to my lips.

Danny hauled himself up and sauntered into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with the other six-pack in his hand and his cell phone pressed to his ear.

'. . . large pepperoni and a large supreme, please,' he said, passing the beer to me. 'No, just the pizzas, and make it quick. Yeah, yeah, see you in forty minutes.' He snapped his phone shut and resumed his position on the floor.

With three beers in me and no food since breakfast, I was already starting to get a bit tipsy. The room, stacked full of boxes and chaotic, had taken on an orange glow as the sun started to descend in the sky and I found myself feeling contently lethargic, or was it more lethargically content? Either way, I was buzzing and happy.

Danny moved beside me and I lazily turned my head to look at him. He had removed his glasses and was in the process of pulling his t-shirt off over his head. He balled it up and threw it across the room. It landed with a wet thud on the floor. 'That,' Danny said, 'was disgusting. It was so fucking hot today! I can't believe we moved all of this shit in that heat.' He took a sip of his beer. 'Thanks, by the way. I know I won't hear the end of this one for years.'

I shrugged. 'No problem, . . . .Master.'

'Fuck off.'

And I laughed . . . a lot. Everything seemed much more amusing than it would have under normal circumstances. Danny ignored me and continued drinking his beer. By the time I had stopped laughing I had forgotten what I was laughing about. 'Where'd you order the pizza from,' I asked, suddenly remembering that there was food on the way.

'Romano's, as usual,' Danny said, 'Nothing but the best.'

'Mmm . . . Good, I would have to slug you if you said Domino's or some shit.'

Danny snorted. 'Have you ever known me to eat Domino's pizza? Seriously, Flack, I am a pizza connoisseur. I don't eat that cheap imitation shit.'

'I know you don't, but I just wanted to make sure. You know, in case your brain had melted from the heat.' I knew I was talking nonsense, but I didn't really care. I didn't care about much at the moment actually. The beer had pleasantly numbed most of the aches in my body, making it easier to forget about the fact that I was sitting on a hard wood floor. Except there was a pain in my right quad that I couldn't ignore.

With my head leaning heavily against the wall and my eyes closed, I hiked up my shorts and began running my thumb down my leg, pressing into the muscle to try to relieve the twinge. Over and over I did this. I think I kind of fell into a meditative daze, well, it was probably more of a drunken daze, but whatever it was, I just kept rubbing my leg as time slipped by.

I had just started to succumb to the fog once more when Danny's voice startled me awake. 'Do you ever think about the first time you jerked off?'

My eyes snapped open. 'What?' I asked, trying to make sense of his question. Did he really just ask that or am I imagining things? I looked over at him, expecting to see that he'd turned green or sprouted an extra head, but he was just Danny, leaning casually against the wall, sipping his beer.

'You know, by now it's such a routine thing. We do it all the time and we never think twice about it. It's just a natural part of life – it seems impossible that there was a time when it wasn't,' he paused and took a sip of beer. 'But I can remember the first time I ever did it.' My mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish's, but I couldn't think of anything to say so I just stayed quiet, hoping he'd drop the subject. He didn't.

'I was thirteen and I had Star Wars sheets on my bed. I waited until I was sure my parents were asleep and the house was quiet before I let my hand drift south. I remember feeling so scared that someone would know what I was doing, but I couldn't stop moving my hand up and down. It just felt too good.'

Suddenly I found myself picturing Danny at thirteen, lying in bed with his hand on his cock, moving furtively in the dark and trying to be quiet. I could see the scene playing out clearly, Star Wars sheets and all, on the back of my eyelids, like it was a movie screen. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and I shook my head to try to erase the image as he continued talking.

'I was so surprised when I came. I mean, my brother and his friends had talked about it, but I had no idea what to expect really, and I hadn't been expecting that. I'm pretty sure I cried out into my pillow and then afterward I just cried, feeling totally guilty. I got up and changed my pajamas and tried to clean the ones covered in semen because I didn't want my mom to find out what I had done. And then I crawled back into bed and vowed I'd never do it again. That lasted two days and then I was doing it again. At least now I don't think it's wrong,' Danny said with a laugh.

My brain seemed to have ceased functioning. Over the course of our friendship, Danny and I had talked about all kinds of things – stupid shit we'd done, girls we've dated, family memories – but this was an unexpected topic. I still couldn't believe he'd just told me about the first time he'd masturbated. Where the fuck had that come from? Maybe I should have been disgusted by the admission, or angry that he just launched into the story out of the blue, but I wasn't. As hard as I tried to dislodge it, I was still somewhat mesmerized by the scene in my head.

'How 'bout you? When'd you first jerk off?'

'Me?' I squeaked – it could be described as nothing else but a squeak – and my heart leapt into my throat. I felt myself blushing again at the thought of telling him my story. Why was he talking about this? Did he really want to know?

'Yes, you, Flack,' Danny said. 'And don't try to bullshit me with some "I don't remember" or "I don't masturbate" nonsense. 'Cause you're one of the biggest ladies men I know and there's no way you don't have a good story.'

'I . . . I . . .' I stuttered, having no idea what to say. I glanced over at Danny. He was leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, looking totally relaxed and unruffled, while I was a complete mess, heart racing and palms sweating. After years on the force, boasting about girls and teasing each other about getting laid was familiar territory, but this sort of honesty was new, even with Danny.

I took a deep breath and brought this old memory to the front of my mind. It was something I recalled quite vividly, as I'm sure every guy does, just like a first kiss or the first time you sleep with someone. It's etched in my mind as a major turning point – I had changed from an innocent boy to a man, full of sexual energy and desires.

My voice was a whisper, breathy and low, barely audible above the whir of the air conditioner, but I found I could raise it any louder. 'I was in sixth grade and I had gone over to my friend Johnny Macleod's house after school. His older sister, Janet, was there with her friend, Anna Walters, and Anna was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. They were in eighth grade, and I tried to come up with all kinds of excuses to be around them, but they always just saw Johnny and me as little boys. On that particular night, though, I went home for dinner and thought about Anna's long dark hair and pretty smile all through the evening and when I went to bed she was still on my mind. When I thought about kissing her I remember feeling my stomach tighten and a kind of warm glow spread throughout my body. That was my first hard-on, at least that I remember. I had heard about masturbating, but it was just something boys whispered about in the hallways, but it felt so right to touch myself so I did. I had a little freak out when I came, but mostly I remember thinking "that was awesome!" and wanting to do it again.'

I laughed thickly at the memory. Anna Walters had disappeared from my life after sixth grade, but she'll always hold a special place as the girl who first made me get my rocks off. The twelve-year-old boy inside me will always be grateful to her.

It was quiet for a few seconds and I glanced at Danny out of the corner of my eye and was surprised to see him looking at me. Well, to be more precise, he was looking at my groin. I followed his gaze and was suddenly aware that my basketball shorts left _nothing_ to the imagination. What do I do? Was he wigged out that I had gotten hard? It wouldn't have happened if we hadn't been talking about jerking off. It was definitely his fault for bringing it up. My gut instinct was to tuck and roll, hiding my obvious erection from sight. I sat immobilized, unsure of how to make this awkward situation go away. Freaking out would probably make it worse, so I opted to play it casual, or as casual as I could in my ramped up state. I cleared my throat and tried to adjust myself so my erection would be trapped in the waistband of my boxers instead of standing tall for the world to see.

Trying to get my breathing to return to normal, I waited a few seconds before turning my head so I could see Danny in my peripheral vision, hoping he'd gone back to resting against the wall, forgetting about what he had seen. No such luck. Danny was looking directly at me now, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and laughter in his eyes. Fuck. My skin felt like it was on fire as a flush spread across my entire body. This was mortifying. Closing my eyes tightly, I braced myself, waiting for Danny to unleash a merciless torrent of jokes. But he remained silent, which unnerved me even more. Danny was never one to pass up an opportunity to take a dig at me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a hand connected with my hip. My fingertips dug into the floor and I pressed back against the wall in alarm. Danny had moved closer and I could feel the heat coming off his body. He slowly trailed his hand across my groin and I watched its progress with terrified fascination. Every neuron in my brain was screaming 'Stop!', but I couldn't form the word in my mouth. I had forgotten how to breathe. The second Danny's fingers brushed my erection, a stifled groan escaped my lips. What the fuck was happening?

Danny's fingers crept up to the waistband of my shorts. I watched unblinkingly as he twisted his wrist so his hand could slide under it. His hand was warm against my skin, and his touch caused a pleasant tension to form deep in belly. My breath was now hitching in my chest, coming out in ragged bursts on every exhale. Danny lifted my boxers and shorts, carefully avoiding my hard-on as he freed it from the confines of my clothing. Now that I was fully on display, I wanted to sink into the floor with embarrassment. Closing my eyes, I prayed for this to end.

I gasped – loudly – when Danny's hand closed around me. 'Guh . . .' I sputtered, unable to think coherently, my hips grinding into the pressure of Danny's hand.

'Don't say anything,' Danny murmured, his voice low and steady.

My instinct was to protest, against Danny's command, his hand on me, the whole situation, but I couldn't. I was like a rubbernecker at a traffic accident, unable to look away. Except in my case, my eyes were shut tight as my best friend jerked me off. It was all wrong, so wrong that it just seemed completely unreal in my head. And because it was so disassociated from reality, I gave in to it all.

I could feel him close to me, but he avoided touching me anywhere but the obvious. Danny was breathing hard through his nose and I could imagine his jaw set in determination. He had established a rhythm and changed the pressure of his fingers as he moved his hand steadily up and down. This felt so different from receiving a hand job from a woman, no delicate touches or teasing. The movement was sure and experienced, and I realized that it was because this same hand had lots of practice on Danny himself. And then I was picturing Danny touching himself again . . .

His thumb swiped across the head of my cock, causing a jolt of pleasure to shoot through my body and settle deep in my balls. His hand move more easily as it became lubricated by my pre-cum. I wanted to call out, say something, as I drew closer to orgasm, but speaking seemed like it would break this bizarre spell, so I bit my bottom lip to keep any unwelcome words from escaping. I was making noise though, something akin to mewling, as Danny continued to stroke me.

Danny twisted his wrist slightly on an upstroke and that was it. That little rotation brought me over the edge and I bucked in Danny's hand. With an anguished cry, I came hard, a blinding white light shooting across my eyelids. I leaned back against the wall, chest heaving and legs shaking. Danny's hand remained on me, gently rubbing out my orgasm until it receded.

I was still trying to catch my breath when Danny's hand vanished from my body and I opened my eyes tentatively to look at him. He was on his feet and moving across the room before I even realized he had gotten up. Using his abandoned t-shirt to clean off his hand, he moved among the boxes, seemingly searching for a specific one. Finding it, he opened it and pulled out a towel, tossing it to me.

'You can have first dibs on the shower,' he said simply, looking completely untroubled by what had just happened between us. I looked down at the towel in my hands, a million questions racing through my brain. I didn't know how to voice any of them, so I nodded, tucked myself into my shorts and fled to the bathroom.

I dropped the towel on the toilet and began to pace, thoughts jumbling and crashing together so nothing made sense. I gripped the edge of the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. I almost felt like I shouldn't recognize myself. I had let another man, no, a very specific other man, touch me. What did it say about me? About Danny? It was too confusing. I focused on my reflection, tracing over the familiar features of my face, and began to calm down.

There was a knock at the door. Letting out a deep exhale, I pulled it open. Danny was standing on the other side holding a plastic bottle.

'Shower gel?' he asked, holding it out to me.

I gave him a curt nod. 'Thanks.' He was so composed and it threw me. It was difficult to look at him, just like it had been difficult to look at myself, but he appeared to be the same old Danny.

Closing the door, I went to turn on the shower and stripped off my sweaty and semen-stained clothes. I stepped into the spray, the cold water rushing over my skin and giving me goosebumps. I rubbed the shower gel over my body roughly, wishing I could wash away this uncomfortable feeling as well. After all the soap bubbles had long been rinsed off, I stood rigidly in the shower, letting the water cascade over my shoulders. That foggy feeling from earlier had returned, although this time it seemed more like a defense mechanism to avoid dealing with what just happened.

As I toweled myself off I noticed some clothes on the floor by the door. I picked up a clean t-shirt and pair of shorts. Danny must have brought them in while I was trying to wash away my sins. I held them in my hands, contemplating putting on my dirty clothes just to avoid the awkwardness of wearing Danny's stuff, but the lure of clean, dry clothes was too tempting. I did, however, opt for wearing my boxers. Going commando in Danny's shorts just seemed to be crossing the line. Although I wasn't too sure where that line was anymore.

With a sigh, I shrugged into the soft navy t-shirt and pulled on the shorts, balling up my own clothes and taking them with me as I exited the bathroom. I reached the living room and stood quietly by the door, uncertain about crossing over the threshold. Danny was shifting boxes around, still shirtless, still unaffected.

'I'm going to go,' I said. Danny's head lifted and his eyes focused on me, a curious expression on his face. 'Thanks for the clothes, though. I'll, um, get 'em back to you as soon as I can.'

'Pizza's not even here yet – why are you going?' Danny asked, following me as I headed for the front door.

Maybe he could pretend like nothing out of the ordinary happened, but I sure as hell couldn't. How could we eat pizza, talk about sports and crack jokes without thinking about what we just did in this very same room? I needed to get out of there, to have a little time to think and sort out all this stuff in my head.

The buzzer sounded and Danny moved to answer it. Pointing a finger at me, he said, 'Wait.' While he was pressing the buttons to let the pizza delivery guy into the building I seriously considered running out the door. My feet, however, seemed cemented to the floor, so instead I just stood there meekly, my clothes clutched in my hands.

Danny paid for the pizzas and set them down on the coffee table. He opened the boxes and set a beer down next to them. 'Sit,' he said, nodding towards the couch. He fixed me with a stare, waiting for me to move, and watched as I walked mechanically to the couch and sat down. 'Now eat. I'm going to take a shower and I expect you to still be here when I get back.'

I didn't look at him or respond. I sat there, holding my clothes, as he retreated from the room. When I heard the water running in the bathroom, I thought about leaving, but the aroma from the pizza was making my stomach growl again. I set my clothes on the floor and picked up a slice of supreme. Chewing and swallowing without really tasting the pizza, I finished off the slice and was on to my second when the bathroom door opened and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

Danny padded barefoot into the living room, wearing a pair of jeans and a Syracuse t-shirt. 'How is it?' he asked, joining me on the couch and picking up a slice of his own. I nodded and hastily grabbed my beer so I could avoid giving a verbal response. We ate in silence, but this silence was neither annoyed nor comfortable, it was just plain awkward. I ate pizza and drank beer, hoping that by keeping busy I could put off the inevitable.

'Flack,' Danny said, the tone of his voice shattering any chance of not talking about _it_. 'Stop freaking out.'

'I'm not fre –'

'You are.'

'Okay, I am freaking out, but the real question is why aren't you?' I demanded. I'd finally had enough of this blasé attitude of his. And then a thought entered my head – maybe this wasn't a big deal to him because it wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. Just because I had never fooled around with another guy before didn't mean the same was true for him. I gaped at Danny, suddenly feeling like I didn't know him at all. 'Are you gay?' I whispered.

Once the words were out of my mouth I wanted to take them back. I recoiled slightly, suddenly very afraid at how he'd react to that question. Would he yell at me or maybe hit me? But he started to laugh and I balked, not understanding what was funny about this situation.

'You should see your face!' he said, shoulders still shaking with laughter. 'You've got that total deer-in-headlights thing going on. It's awesome.'

'Fuck you, Messer,' I hissed, quickly swapping my uneasiness with an embarrassed anger. I moved to stand up, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back down to the couch.

'Wait, Flack, I'm sorry,' he said, fingers still gripping my arm. 'Listen, I don't want you to be upset or freaked out about what happened earlier. It doesn't need to be a big deal, just think of it as a friend helping a friend.' He must have noticed the panic in my eyes because he quickly added, 'Or we can blame it all on exhaustion and alcohol and never mention it again, if that makes you feel better.'

It didn't really matter if it was a helping hand or too much alcohol, I still knew it happened. And while that knowledge remained firmly planted in my brain, I couldn't think of it as 'no big deal.' It was, in fact, a very big deal because we were friends who just waded into some majorly unfamiliar territory. Talking about jerking off was one thing, hell, even seeing Danny naked in the showers at the gym wasn't any cause for concern, but having his hands on me was an entirely different matter. The minute he touched me something changed in our friendship and I wasn't certain it could ever be the same again.

I shook my head. 'No, that doesn't make me feel better, Danny, and you didn't answer my question,' I said flatly.

'Am I gay?' A smile appeared on Danny's lips. 'No, I'm not, but I can see why you'd think that after . . .' he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the wall where we'd sat earlier. 'If that's what's got you so worked up, that I'm gay and have a secret crush on you, then you can put your mind at ease because I won't be hitting on you any time soon. It's not something I planned – you were hard and looked embarrassed about it so I decided to take matters into my own hands, so to speak, and show you it wasn't a big deal. Really, man, I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, but you don't need to freak out.'

Easy for him to say.

'Are we cool?' he asked after a couple seconds. He'd lost the joking tone from his voice and his expression seemed sincere, but I wasn't sure if this could be rectified so easily. I took a swig of beer and shrugged.

The following week I stood in front of Danny's building again. We had reached a tentative understanding over the last couple days and had made plans to watch the Subway Series. On the drive over I had started to get anxious, however, and now I'd been standing on the stoop for five minutes, contemplating the wisdom of ringing his bell.

My cell phone buzzed and I looked at the name on the display – Danny Messer. With a groan, I put my phone to my ear. 'Yeah?'

'Flack, what the hell are you doing? I see your car parked on the street.'

'Um . . .I'm out front. Just couldn't remember if it was 4A or 4B.' _Brilliant, Flack_, I thought shaking my head.

Danny snorted. 'Yeah, right . . .' The buzzer sounded. 'Come on up, you _know_ the way,' Danny said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Hanging up, I shoved my cell phone back in my pocket and pulled the door open. Like a dead man walking, I headed up the stairs to Danny's apartment. He was waiting for me at the door, a shit-eating grin across his face.

'I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place.'

'Cute, Messer. Just take the beer and let's watch this game,' I said, shoving a six-pack into his arms and pushing into his place.

A few boxes were still scattered about, but Danny had done a lot of unpacking and the place felt more like a home. My eyes drifted around the apartment, taking in all the changes and I nodded approvingly. The blank white walls now held some art, DVDs and video games lined the shelves, and the furniture was arranged around the TV. I started to sit down on the couch, but Danny's voice stopped me.

'I thought we might sit over there,' he said, pointing to the floor by the air conditioner.

I froze, my mouth hanging open and my eyes darting between Danny and that spot on the floor. Panic started to rise in my chest. I thought we'd come to an agreement about what happened –

Danny burst out laughing. 'I'm kidding, Flack. Sit down and let's watch the game.'

FIN


End file.
